Speak to Me
by InvaderMads45321
Summary: Maka has had enough to do with her drunken father and decides to leave for good. Family matters and insecurity have swallowed Maka Albarn into depression and only one, the guy she's known for three years, has a remedy that can soothe the hurt and make life just a little more tolerable. SoulxMaka fic.
1. Ridicule in the Rain

Colorful city lights danced like candle flames across the rippled surface of the lake. Car horns sounded through the distance and the hushed whistle of the wind moved the crimson and gold leaves that floated above the darkening water. Street lamps illuminated the deserted park while civilians stayed within the comfort of their homes, or worked in their nighttime shifts.

The echoes of a song blew through the current of the wind as a young, teenage girl strode along the path that enclosed the peaceful, isolated scenery.

Only her words pierced through the nighttime breeze, for nobody was there to witness her singing along with the raindrops that began to fall in rhythmic motion. Her sandy-colored hair swayed with every stride she took while her forest green eyes hid the tears she tried desperately to fight back; her attire that of an average sixteen year-old was of faded blue jeans and her old school-girl top. Concealing her feet were two bulky boots with large white buckles.

Shivering, the girl took note of the overcast that was quickly enclosing the crimson-streaked sunset in the sky. Dark, ominous clouds roared out the claps of thunder and she decided to end her wandering.

After stepping inside the apartment building, almost completely drenched in rainwater, the girl took off to her complex and entered her temporary home. She pried off her soggy jacket and shivered after closing the wooden door, spotting her roommate, Soul, whom was lying comfortably on the couch with his feet propped up on an armrest and his fingers laced together over his abdomen. The television had been turned on and weather radar had been airing.

"Hey Maka, glad you came back in, the storm nearing Death City is only seeming to get worse...," the boy muttered in a husky tone.

Sighing, Maka kicked off her boots and replied in a sarcastic tone, "wow, never noticed." She wiped the wet strands of hair that clung to her face and headed into the bathroom where she striped herself of her clothes and started a hot bath to calm her senses.

After easing herself into the tub, she grit her teeth as she remembered her father and why she was upset in the first place. No matter where he was or what he had been doing, he always found some woman to flirt with and or, bring home every single night. Only on the weekends did Maka ever stay in Soul's apartment, but this particular night, Spirit, her father, had gone overboard, dragging two girls into the house and staggering after them with a liquor bottle sloshing in his hand.

No wonder her mother divorced Spirit; he was a cheating prick that only thought about himself and none about the others that cared about him.

It had been almost a year since she had seen her mother… for she had left the country to travel to Europe and explore what all there was in the world. Maka couldn't blame her; it'd be a hell of a lot better than staying with her drunk of a husband that brought in hooker after hooker. The thought of him was disgusting to Maka to the point she couldn't even call the man her father. He was too much of a disgrace and it only brought back bad memories of drunken abuse of when she was younger.

Remembering this, Maka hummed to herself so she could hide her childish tears; after all, she tried not to let weakness in the mind bring her down, for she had been beaten up so many times physically in training at the academy. Crying wasn't helpful and having someone look out for her was out of the subject.

Brining her cheek to her knees, she curled into the fetal position and listened to the rain pour on the roof above. Strange, how it rained so much in Nevada, but Maka didn't complain- rain was her favorite weather- not because it was a depressing color in the clouds that blew across the horizon, it was the clap of thunder and the light flashing in the sky, the suddenness to it all. Some things just… happen.

After about an hours soak, she unplugged the drain from the porcelain tub and stood for about a minute until all the lukewarm water had spiraled down the bottomless hole. Turning on the showerhead, took another 10 minutes before stepping out of the bathroom wearing a small white tank top and some red and black striped shorts.

Peeking into the den, she caught sight of Soul, sprawled out on the cushions with his mouth partly open and his messy white hair curtaining his closed eyes. One arm lay limp on the floor while the other cradled his head like a pillow; his cheek was squished up against the palm of his hand and light snoring came from the albino teen.

Smirking, Maka tiptoed to her room where she opened the blinds to her window and looked out over Death City. Company buildings were still lit up while expensive cars drove through the highways; such a shame how people are so selfish and self –conscious of how they seem to the public surroundings- but Maka couldn't argue about that. She too, was very conscious about the everyday people around her- being the class nerd wasn't exactly the easiest and having a drunk as a father be Lord Death's death scythe was pretty confusing. Not to mention what insecure feelings she had about the guys she met up daily, everything added up to what all stress Maka felt every single day.

Yes, Maka smiled and had fun with Tsubaki, Death the Kid and his weapons, Liz and Patty, not to mention Black Star and Soul, her very own roommate and weapon…

Through the years she's been a Meister, its difficult more than ever to conceal her hidden, forbidden emotions towards some…

But why ruin her life, as she already knows that it could get worse by the reveal of a single secret? She'd prefer to keep her life as relatively stable as it was…

"It's okay for you to hate me for all the things I've done… I've made a few mistakes, but I'm not the only one…"

Maka whispered out these lyrics for she had listened to this song on one of Soul's playlists on his Ipod that she secretly stole for a day. It's not like he listened to music excessively, and it's not necessarily like he would care if he found out Maka had an interest in his music… so what harm was there?

"you pull me under… I pull you under…" Maka's voice grew a little louder as the rain pounded harder and harder against the window, accompanying some eerie wind that scratched against the old window.

Crawling into her bed covers, she turned off her table lamp and resorted to listening to the song in her thoughts, thinking of why her father's intentions were always about sex and why he could never even think of showing some respect toward her and her mother.

Before she fell unconscious, she let her mind flood to thoughts of a familiar, masculine, white-haired boy that only slept outside her very door…

* * *

**Author's Note**

**I may or may not update this draft; it was a little sketchy at first and I still don't know where to go from this; if you guys give me some reviews pretty quick, I might just give what you want… **

**Please, I'd really like your insight on this story; and for those of you who have read a few of my previous stories and think my writing has changed, I'm truly sorry, but it's been forever since I've gotten back in my writing. I'll get back in the flow if it soon.**

**Comment please; message my profile please! It doesn't matter if you're not a member of fanfiction! Even if you won't read this again and you think it's total crap, PLEASE tell me why! I want to get better at my writing! **

**Thanks guys! **


	2. Flipping through Memories

SOUL'S POV

Listening to the drone of the weather man, Soul stared at the fuzzy television screen as purple, green and red colors swirled over the state of Nevada. A few tea-light candles were spread out on the coffee table, for Soul had been prepared for an electricity outage.

Wrinkling his nose, he began to stretch across the leather sofa, exhausted from the day's work at the academy; Stein insisted on dissecting some sort of endangered species that Soul had never seen. It was some sort of monkey crossed with a parrot, and in honest truth, Soul hadn't even paid attention during the time, for he was sleeping soundly to the dull voice of his teacher. Maka and Ox were trying to talk the professor out of the experiment, and it seemed to take a whole hour to debate with the adult until he finally gave in and noticed that their class was nearing to an end.

Fluttering his eyes open, he realized he was dozing. Running his hands through his soft, white hair, Soul looked back to the television and glanced at the digital clock beneath.

_9:23 PM. It's not that late and I'm already dozing; this is so, not cool._

Folding his hands on his muscled abdomen, he listened to the rain pitter-patter on the roof of the apartment complex, a song of nature seeming to play just for him until he heard the door to his apartment creak open.

Looking over the seat cushion, he spotted Maka, with her clothes clinging to her athletic body and her hair dripping with rainwater.

Shifting uncomfortably, Soul looked back to the television, keeping his eyes off his unexpected roommate.

_What's Maka doing here on a weekend? And why the hell did he feel so uncomfortable, looking at his Meister while her clothes were clinging to her body, making her small curves stand out? Why was he even contemplating this at all? This is so not cool, man…_

"Hey Maka, glad you came back in, the storm nearing Death City is only seeming to get worse...," after he said this, he got a sarcastic response from Maka before she hurried into the bathroom. Locking his jaw and biting his tongue, he narrowed his eyes at the television and continued to stare as colors flickered on the screen.

The rain-pour got noticeably heavier as the static on the television grew worse. Finally, Soul turned the television off and meandered through his thoughts, ignoring the protesting scream from his stomach that urged him to scrounge up something to eat from the kitchen.

Picking up the similar beat to one of his favorite songs, he recognized it right away and got the lyrics in his head perfectly as he matched it to the beat of Maka's humming.

_Since when did Maka like Five Finger Death Punch? Weird… I would've expected a girl like her to listen to country music rather than the genres I listen to… what was that girl's name? Taylor Swift?_

Shrugging this off, Soul turned to his side and gazed at the yellow and orange candles that were laid out on the table, and beyond that, a window reflecting rain droplets that flowed down the clear glass; a boundary between the real world and home.

_Strange… why would Maka resort to living in the apartment instead of being with her father at her own, perfectly fine house? Did something happen? Or did she just come here because it was the closest place she could get shelter from the storm? Whatever it is, I hope she doesn't have another grand entrance like that again, wet clothes and all. _

Cringing, Soul cursed himself for thinking like that about his Meister before knitting his eyebrows together, trying to shove that out of his mind before worse things popped into his head.

Instead, he just listened to the lullaby of Maka's humming that accompanied the sound of the rain, dragging him beneath the dark waves of sleep.

* * *

**3:06 AM**

A loud crash of thunder jolted the teen awake from his nightmare in the black and red-tiled ballroom.

_Dammit! I fell asleep on the couch…_

Pushing his torso off the cushions, Soul groggily looked around the room. Every light was turned off and the candles had burned out, the smell of pumpkin and cinnamon wafting in the room. Looking at the old VHS below the television, he proved the answer that the electricity was out, for the clock was but just a dull grey.

Setting his feet on the carpet, Soul sat in the dark for was seemed like several minutes, listening to the storm rage on before he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and drew his attention to the kitchen, desperate for food since he skipped dinner last night. Of course, with the electricity out, all the food in the fridge would be going bad, so he resorted to simple, dry cereal.

After pouring the cereal in the bowl, he flicked the orange tiger on the cereal box before heading to his room with a lighted candle in his other hand.

Huffing out a sigh, Soul sat on his bed and set the candle on his dresser, munching on the frosted flakes as he gazed out the window.

_Why the hell does it rain in Nevada? You wouldn't think it would, since it's mostly covered in desert, but no, it rains just as much as any other state would… It's retarded in my opinion._

Grabbing the Ipod off his wooden dresser, he scrolled through songs and set the volume to low so he could still hear that soothing sound of the rain hitting the apartment.

"Close your eyes… so many days go by… easy to find what's wrong; harder to find what's right…"

Soul whispered out these words as the song played, a low drumming in his ears sounded as he watched rain droplets crawl down the window sill.

Contemplating on the recurring nightmare, Soul continued the lyrics and replayed the dream.

A ballroom with black and red tiles patterned the floor while Soul sat on a mahogany piano bench; a grand, black piano shone in the dim light of the candles that dotted the room, was set before the teen. He, himself, was dressed in a fine, pinstriped suit with a red dress shirt and satin tie while his shoes were that of black loafers; a classy getup for a "cool" guy like himself.

He had just finished a slow and melodic song that he had learned to play as a child in his home, bearing memories long forgotten as black electricity snaked around his wrists and fingers and slithered along the stainless white keys of the piano. His hands grew pale as the last note was played, and a cackle came from Soul's right.

The red imp he had seen so many times before stood in the same position, his wide smile stretching across his face. His glowing yellow irises were staring into Souls, and before Soul could understand what was going on, the demon snapped his fingers and he could feel his lungs tighten while his chest squeezed- the madness began seeping in. "Come with me; overwhelming madness and power await..."

However, he would always wake before the dream progressed, and Soul would shrug it off.

Ever since Soul had been sliced open from Chrona's weapon, Ragnarok, his blood had been infiltrated and replaced with that of the black blood. The side effect of all this was the nightmare that came to him every night; the same ballroom came to him, the same big, brass doors that led to dark emptiness until he finally came out of Maka's stomach. And as always, he would catch sight of that demonic imp that encouraged the madness to take over.

Staring at the candle flame, he pinched the bridge of his nose while he shook the dream out of his head and replaced that with his younger self, a boy sitting with his older brother, listening to him play the sad music of a violin.

"I can see right through all your empty lies… I won't last long in this world so wrong. Say goodbye as we dance with the devil tonight; don't you dare look at him in the eye…," Soul continued to mutter the song to himself, unable to keep the words in as he ate the remnants of the cereal.

His brother, Wes, always had the upper hand in between the two siblings; piano suited Soul, while Wes kept to the violin- but despite the difference between the instruments, Wes was always the better between the two- always the one to be looked up to. Soul, who didn't always have the good grades or the greatest musical touch, was always pushed to become better, was always pushed to his limits, but his limits just weren't enough.

When he found out his true specialty as a weapon came about him, he fled from home, taking his chances to leave and live a life that suited his standards; a life that kept his sanity intact.

But with all the black blood and the relentless quarreling with the little demon he's come across, the dream to be normal and stress-free was taken away.

_Well, why would I have expected different?_

Soul grabbed the guitar off the faded yellow wall, picked up the pick and began to play the song repeatedly until morning came.

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE**_

_**Hey guys; updated another chapter for ya. I might just update this one later in case I feel the need to change a few things or have a grammatical error…**_

_**I tried my best in this one, so please, opinions matter to me; I'd appreciate reviews, comments and whatnot, even if you hate the story with a passion. TELL ME… O.O**_

_**Thanks for reading! **_


	3. Speak to Me

MAKA'S POV

**7:09 AM**

Fluttering her eyes open, Maka sighed and grimaced as she looked to the window, squinting as lightning streaked across the stormy overcast. Low booms of thunder made the apartment rattle while tiny bits of hail fell across the glass, going _chk _as it accompanied the seemingly endless rain.

Dragging her dull, green eyes to her alarm clock, she grunted at the digital numbers before pushing her body into a sitting position, opening the thin scabs that were still fresh on her boney hips.

Scrutinizing her appearance in the wall mirror that was hung on the wall, opposite of her, she frowned at her legs, her torso, her pale forearms, her stubby chin and her eyes; she didn't see what was so great about having green eyes. So what if they weren't brown and blue like everyone else's? She despised it, for it reminded Maka of her father- her drunken, abusive disgrace of a father who had no idea what he had; if he never cheated on her mom, and if he never hurt Maka, then Spirit would be a perfectly fine father- Maka might even consider him "daddy".

Biting her lip, the girl stood up and sighed, heading out into the living room. Old, used candles were left on the table that sat before the TV; the lights in the room were lit and Maka guessed that the power had probably turned off while she was sleeping.

Cocking her head to the side, she heard the soft sound of an acoustic guitar being played from her roommate's bedroom. It didn't seem like any form of music that she heard come from his room after school days; this beat of music seemed to stop and continue with different note pitches while she heard a muffled phrase come from behind the wooden door every few seconds.

Still taking in the melody of the song, she headed over to the kitchen where she plugged in the coffee machine, opened up the Starbucks coffee bean package and let out the pungent scent of caffeine wake her up a tad bit more; scooping several spoonfuls of beans into the grinder, she put on the cap and cringed at the loud, overwhelming sound before letting off the button.

Standing on her tiptoes, she stretched to the top cabinet and grasped the coffee filters, set one into the machine and poured the grainy substance in before turning around with the pot in her hand.

Behind her was Soul, walking toward the fridge, startling Maka and making her drop the pot; fortunately, with Soul's quick instinct, he caught it before it crashed onto the creamy tile floor beneath.

"HOLY CRAP, SOUL! Don't scare me like that," she exclaimed, realizing her top had pulled above her navel, leaving her pink, puffy scars exposed. Grabbing her tank top, she tugged it down and avoided Soul's eyes, taking the pot from his hands and filling it with tap water from the chrome sink.

After she had successfully started brewing the coffee, Maka looked over to Soul suspiciously, who was pouring out the milk, orange juice and throwing away the eggs- he was disposing nearly everything they had in their fridge.

"Electricity went out last night which means every bit of food left in the fridge was left to spoil overnight. We'll have to get groceries, but I wouldn't be so eager to go just yet- if the power was out here, then the power was bound to be out at the store; we'll have to wait for the place to stock up again."

After this was all said and done, Soul retreated back to his room, but left the door partly open.

Narrowing her eyes at the door to Soul's bedroom, she sat on a stool beside the kitchen counter, sipping on her black coffee and eavesdropping in on Soul, the sound of scribbling and erasing and a muttered curse behind the thunder claps.

After half an hour had come and gone, Soul played his song one last time, singing the lyrics to himself as if there were an audience and he was the main star playing on an empty concert stage.

"_**Speak to me I swear I'm listening…**_

_**Show me all the things I'm missing.**_

_**And let me calmly step aside,**_

_**Let these heavenly objects collide….**_

_**Speak to me I'm finally listening- and all easily deceived:**_

_**You're the only one I believe.**_

_**Give me something I can believe in…"**_

Soul whispered the last word as he continued for another minute, strumming his guitar and sighing with relief.

Gaping in surprise, Maka sat there, paralyzed with awe and wonder; was Soul hinting at something? Was it a silent plea to confide in him and talk to him about her troubles? Or was she over-analyzing it all and it was simply just a song he made up in his spare time?

_Why would Soul care if he saw the cuts? Why would anyone at that matter care; even my own family doesn't appreciate me… Mom left to venture the world, and Spirit… he can go screw himself…_

Pouring out the remnants of her coffee, disgusted at her very self, she carefully set the mug in the sink and trudged toward her room dejectedly.

Not bothering to pull her hair up, she simply brushed it with a comb, picked off her pajamas and put on some baggy, grey sweatpants and pulled on a navy short-sleeved top with the logo of a moose in the corner and bold, white lettering that read, "AF 1982" at the bust.

After brushing her teeth, she scrutinized herself once more in the mirror before adding another, shallow cut to both of her hips with a razor blade she had smashed about a week ago. Four solid blades fell out and Maka lined all four at the far back of the drawer on the far left side of the counter.

Watching the dark blood rise out of the self-inflicted wound, she pulled the blade away, examining the damage before repeating on the other hip.

Rinse, repeat. Rinse, repeat. Rinse, repeat. Rinse-

A light tapping on the door made Maka stop halfway through her fifth cut, dropping the thin, cold metal onto the floor. Quickly, Maka pushed the blade beneath the counter with her toe while she quickly adjusted her shirt over her torso.

"Yeah?"

Soul walked into the bathroom, saying something about taking a shower before knitting his eyebrows together, as if he was confused or upset. Stopping in mid-sentence, Soul lifted Maka's wrist carefully and examined her blouse which had about three crimson streaks spreading on both of her hips.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**Oh noes! Soul's piecing things together!**

**I'll be up for the next few hours, making the next chapter; it won't be long for another update to come in. **

**Reviews! I'm lovin' them!**

**-InvaderMads**

**Hey guys, that song that was mentioned in this chapter is what I named this story after.**

**Nick Urata's song, Speak to Me, is NOT MINE and neither are the characters mentioned in this story. They all come from Soul Eater. :)**


	4. May I?

SOUL'S POV

Finishing up with the song, strumming the last few chords, Soul sat there in the deafening silence before his body shuddered- whether it was from the chilliness of the apartment, or it was what he had composed, he didn't know.

Bending over, he put his elbows to his knees and laced his fingers across the nape of his neck and instantly found his answer.

_Jesus Christ, its freezing in here… maybe some hot water will fix that up._

Setting the mechanical pencil down onto his bedside desk, he got up and rummaged through his drawers. Picking through the numerous band t-shirts and jeans, he found a simple grey and white, horizontal striped shirt that accompanied a pair of black, cargo pants.

Adding undergarments and a towel, he shuffled his feet towards the bathroom and grasped the door handle, finding that the light was on under the crack of the entrance; tapping on the door, he heard a very light _tink! _and a few hurried movements before a controlled "yeah" responded.

Opening the plastic doorknob, Soul kept his eyes to the floor but it seemed that Maka had been finished with whatever she was doing, so he flicked his attention to her eyes and then to her arms, which were tightly pressed against her hips.

_What's up with Maka? Why is she so stiff and standing in such a bizarre position? It's as she's hiding-_

"Hey Maka, I'll be needing to take a shower soon, so if you could plea-…"

Soul wrinkled his forehead while he narrowed his eyes both of Maka's hips for there several strips of red that were spreading on her tiny, navy t-shirt.

Soul set his change of clothes onto the counter and looked over his roommate again.

Concern washed over the albino teen's face while he lifted Maka's extremely thin wrist, while Maka just stood there, looking Soul up and down with emptiness in her expression.

"May I," Soul asked as he carefully tugged at the hem of his Meister's staining shirt.

She just shrugged while she crossed her arms over her chest, allowing the permission while he carefully cuffed the shirt and pulled it over her hip bones. On both of her slim hips were five, crimson slices contrasting over hundreds of old, white scars that stretched from one side of her pelvis to the other.

Taking his shaky hands away, Soul stuffed them into his pockets and slid past her, farther into the bathroom before opening a creaky wooden cabinet and pulled out cotton balls.

"Soul, what the hell are you doin-," she was cut of abruptly when Soul muttered in sad monotone, "if you feel that you can't trust your friends, even your own weapon who swore to his life to protect you, the least you can do is let me clean up your wounds…"

Picking out a bag of cotton balls, bandages, and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, he swiveled around the girl and lead Maka out of the room, sitting down on the couch.

Getting to work, he poured the disinfectant into the cotton and ignored the wince coming from his Meister, who looked dejectedly at the smooth, crimson sofa beneath them. Soul did this as they both sat in the silence, before he kindly asked her to turn so he could finish on her other hip.

"Maka… I don't know what drove you to come here this weekend… and I don't know what inside yourself, drove you to do _this_… but please remember that there are people out there who are there for you. I'm you're weapon and I swore on my life to protect you from whatever harm comes your way, even self-inflicted harm. Not doing my duty as a weapon and not being there for you when you're in need of a friend is not cool on any standards…," he whispered as he put on the last bandage, and hugged his friend from behind.

_What the hell was she thinking… Why couldn't she trust me, or the others, at that matter? She practically lives with me every day of every single week except on the weekends… It had to be something about her father…it had to be; it's the only other person she lived with._

Pulling away, he took all of the disinfectant and put them in the cabinet before throwing away the used cotton balls and plastic strips that had contained the band-aids.

"Will you be fit enough to go home tomorrow," Soul hollered.

Without getting a response, he stepped out of the bathroom and rested his eyes on Maka. Her lip was trembling, but she bit it to keep her weakness from showing.

She huffed out a shaky breath before scampering to her bedroom and closing the door, her face pink with hot, angry tears streaming down her cheeks.

Holding the bottle of Tylenol, Soul stared at the wooden design on her door, thinking things over while he heard the muffled sound of cursing and whimpering come from her room.

Standing there, dumbfounded and confused as what to do, he began to pace the living room, weaving amongst the furniture.

_What do I do? Do I go in and comfort her? Do I hold her or do I stay out here, pacing like an idiot? Will she accept the gesture or will she shove me off, needing time to herself? Will she accept me, or refuse my help? Maybe… no. I need to at least try; it's my duty as a friend and as a weapon to be there. No matter what the consequences may be…_

After heating a small mug of hot chocolate, he poured out two tiny white capsules onto the palm of his hand and set the bottle of Tylenol beside the sink. He studied the pills, reading the numbers engraved in the white substance before looking over his shoulder and took notice of how quiet her crying had become.

Tiptoeing to her room, Soul knocked on her bedroom door and, getting silence as a response, he cracked the door open and found Maka, lying down with her back facing the door. Her crying had eased and it seemed as if she was trying to regain her breath, hiccupping and humming to herself.

Entering the room, he set the mug and two tablets onto her bedside table and studied the room around him.

Hanging on the wall beside the door was a full, body length mirror, and opposite of that was the bed on the wall, farthest from her door. The bed in the corner was made of yellow and green floral designs, matching that of the cream-colored walls of the apartment. A tall, wooden dresser, similar to the one in Soul's own bedroom, was pushed against the wall beside a small square table that held the gifts Soul had brought in and a lamp that poured light into the small, cozy room. Another work table was set up beside the door; textbooks, pencils and notebooks were set up neatly on the surface and a small picture frame of Maka and her friends sat in the corner of the desk while three candles lit up the memory.

Thinking back to that now, when that picture had been taken, it had been one of the happiest moments he'd had with Maka and his friends; that was before Medusa had become a conflict in their lives and Soul changed from his childish self into the more serious teenager he was now.

With this, he sat on the foot of Maka's bed and looked over to the sniffling wreck, holding herself tightly, as if she was going to shatter into tiny bits and pieces.

_This… Is going to be a long day…._

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hey. Yeah… new chapter.

Probably won't add another until Wednesday, when Fall Break starts…

But, I'll TRY MY ABSOLUTE BEST! I'll be looking forward to read your opinions! They help!

Disclaimer:

All work goes to the makers of Soul Eater; no credit goes toward me at all…

Thanks guys!


	5. Secrets and Sorrows

MAKA'S POV

Prying open her crusty, swollen eyes, Maka kept still as she faced the wall of her apartment bedroom.

Gazing at the textured wall before her, she stretched out her arm to trace out patterns and swirls on the creamy paint before she tilted her neck to look over to the ceiling. Popping her neck involuntarily, she cringed at the sharp pain and rolled onto her aching back.

Frowning, she took her gaze to an uninvited roommate who had been sitting, hunched over at the edge of her bed, his gaze locked on the brown, fluffy carpet below. His face seemed to be contorted into a mix between discomfort and concern, while his hands fumbled with each other to hide the shakiness. Silver-tipped hair hung below his tan jaw line and silent words escaped his lips as he worded a soundless monologue to himself.

The popping of her neck, however, signified that she was done with her weeping for the time being; Soul craned his neck to look over at Maka who was staring straight at him, curiosity burning in her eyes.

Soul opened his mouth, but shut it instantly before looking back to the carpet, fumbling with his hands and twiddling his fingers. He did this several times before he finally huffed out a breath, "I brought you Tylenol…"

He pointed his chin to a spot beside her forehead and he shut his mouth again before stuffing his hands in his pockets and looking over to her desk, avoiding her gaze.

Looking to her right, she spotted the black and white speckled mug that paired with two tiny, white capsules that sat, waiting patiently on her night stand.

Taking the cup and sipping the now lukewarm liquid, she recognized the chocolaty taste and popped the two pills in her mouth while Soul spoke.

"Maka, I don't know… I-I think it's time you knew the truth about who I really am."

Knitting her eyebrows together, Maka looked the boy up and down as she tried to rub the crusty tears from her eyes; Soul was pulling his cargo pant legs up to his thighs, confusing Maka even more.

Underneath the excessive, boy-length leg hair that covered his muscled calves and thighs, was that of his own disgusting secret. Mounds of disgustingly misshapen bits of skin that made creases and bumps over his legs- scars of his own that were far more serious than Maka's on her stomach and pelvis. The bumpy hills and shallow valleys that hid between the cuts were those of an intricate design, drawn on his joints in a disorderly fashion- a grotesque and unsightly beauty.

Frowning to herself, Maka couldn't take her eyes away from the wreck on Soul's pale legs.

"My real name is Soul Eater Evans; Wes Evans, one of the most famous musicians to this day, is my brother…; why am I telling you this, you ask? Because I've been meaning to share the truth with you for a while and I feel that this is an appropriate time, since we both share something that we both are rightfully to blame for…"

Sucking in a breath of air, he rolled his pant legs down back to his ankles and began.

"I had it all; the family, the grades, the music… oh, I had been pushed to join the career of music, of symphony and fame as did my brother, Wes. My parents wanted the best for me- the goal to be in Hanover University- one of the top colleges that excelled in the musical career."

By this time, Soul had turned and faced Maka, looking at her and back to his twiddling thumbs.

"Every single class had to be at it's peak in perfection. Every single grade was only accepted if it was an 'A', and if it wasn't perfect, I would be told to do it over. No matter what it was, I would be pushed to do harder in education and no matter what I had tried, my parents didn't see the effort I put in as much as they swooned over my older brother. Wes, never missed an assignment; he never had a single flaw in his musical goal and my father would congratulate him for his work on the violin, on the cello, on the clarinet, on almost any instrument except for the piano. No, that instrument was reserved for me, and that's what I respected about my brother… He neither took nor benefited my work towards my parent's never-fulfilled goals."

Taking Maka's hand in his own, he focused on her fingertips and her thin, boney knuckles, rubbing small, circular patters as he began to steady his voice into a more stern and serious tone.

"By this time, in order to let the built up pressure to flow out, I began to seek some form of… contentment. I needed something to hold onto or find something to escape to for the meantime. I resigned to the blade, and let piece by piece of myself slide out until I found serenity, or, what I thought was peace."

Maka had swallowed another mouthful of hot chocolate, visualizing a younger, more insecure version of Soul, trying to see him in a sweater vest or a dress shirt and a tie paired with ironed slacks and child-sized loafers.

It was almost painful to think about, not having the freedom as some children did…

"By the time that Wes had turned sixteen, he had already surpassed highschool and was granted a free scholarship into that dreamed-of college, and before you knew it, he was majoring in violin, letting out his first record…

My parents were beyond proud, and now, seeing that their first child had succeeded, surely their second could follow up…"

Soul had begun to squeeze her hand but he pulled away once he noticed what he was doing, before he crossed his arms and held his elbows in a self-conscious manner. The rain began to lighten up, but loud, eerie winds scratched against the window pane.

"I couldn't do it. I was the flawed child in the family. I was average, maybe even considered 'unacceptable'. My grades were slipping as I tried harder for impressions, my music was getting sloppy as I tried to keep pace, my mental stability grew worse and by the time I figured out I was a weapon, I had already over a few hundred scars on my body. For four straight years, I had resorted to self-abuse and I realized how much damage I'd caused myself, both physically and mentally… I had to leave home and live life as a weapon. I'd shortly found the DWMA, and had registered to become a student without the thought of ever going back…"

"Thing is… friends were never an issue with me because I never had any. I never had the chance to find any and never was accepted: if I ever DID find any that came across my way, they'd be smuggling money for friendship and it was all I was ever known for. Maka… this is why I never let out my real identity- people wouldn't accept me as a person rather than a walking, talking dollar sign."

"Maka… you have so much in your life ahead of you: make it worth living. And besides… I'm your weapon; I swore on my very life to protect you from whatever harm comes your way. Self-harm counts; if you ever feel the need to talk, I'll always, ALWAYS be there…"

Maka's throat was beginning to swell with gratitude- the loyalty her partner showed and the trust he founded in her was overwhelming, and only made her begin to choke on tears again.

She had never even thought, for one second, that he too had issues just like she did… but their reasons were far more different than she could ever imagine.

_My simplistic issues with my drunken and abusive father is far, far lesser than what he's gone through… why should I be so worried with my problems when he's had so much worse…?_

Maka fretted over this as she began to hum out the fresh burden of sorrow. A sharp pain crossed her chest and a river began to flow on her face.

Before she knew what was happening, she had been pulled into a warm embrace and she began to sob out her story.

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Oh my…

Just… oh my.

Disclaimer:

Any and all characters of, and or, pertaining to this story belong to the creators of Soul Eater.

Nothing goes to me except for the plot!

Comment and PM me for opinions- I love any and all views you give me. it really makes me smile when I know you guys have the care to read my stories.

-InvaderMads


	6. Grocery Lists

SOUL'S POV

The rain had eased by the time Maka's wallowing had stopped.

Taking the empty mug that hung loosely in his partner's hands, he set it on the nightstand and carefully eased Maka off of him.

Setting her head on her pillow, Soul stood from the bed and blinked away his own tears that had come to him. Maka had seemed to fall asleep after she too, had revealed her experiences with her father.

Of course, being neglected by her dad and abandoned by her mother who sought out the world was a huge burden on her, he just couldn't understand why she left resorted to her own kind of pain-reliever.

She had friends to turn to at her very leisure- she had more than he could've dreamed of when he was dealing with the same form of sorrow. Maka was gifted! She didn't recognize what all she truly had- it wasn't like her own friends would leave her in her time of need.

But perhaps she was afraid that more people would just abandon her like her mother did… maybe she was trying to keep it all in so she wouldn't have her peers crowd in on her and take her to a mental facility just because of a dark moment she was passing through in her life.

Wiping the soggy, wet strands of hair off her face, he shuddered at himself as his mouth let out the words from his soul, "Wouldn't it be nice to have a strong mind, one that can get rid of the fear you feel?"

Immediately he bit his tongue, for his mind raced back to that little demon that wandered his dreams, and he had realized that he quoted the pest.

He couldn't argue though… for the imp was correct in certain cases; fear was the only thing that people feared most. It caused havoc in the streets, with your precious family, with the friends you cherished the most and the dreams that kept you terrified of what lies underneath the truth.

Soul looked to the window above the bed and stared at the dull, massive clouds that clung to the skyscrapers, thinking back to what made him afraid the most. Silence swallowed the room into peacefulness and he turned from the sleeping girl, guilt creeping up on him as he felt his stomach tighten.

Was it the kieshan? Was it the madness that hung on that thin string, ready to crash down and pull him into the imp's desire? Was it the fear of losing his friends? Was it the fear of remembering his unfortunate past, or was it his emotions that meshed into his relationship with his friend, Maka?

Was it the fear of love itself?

No, no -he wasn't going to allow feelings intrude on the perfectly fine friendship he kept with his Meister. He wouldn't allow himself to fall into that bottomless pit with only the resolve of a broken heart or the loss of the capability to fight against the dreams that could bring him into the madness.

Gritting his teeth, he grunted and clenched his hand into a fist after exiting Maka's bedroom.

_Keep it together Soul… no need to get upset over a simple girl; you come across them almost every single day- keep it together! _

Prying off his shirt, he hurried off to the bathroom, and stepped into the shower, where the hot, steamy water crawled down his back and his stress ebbed away with the water swirling down the drain.

* * *

Unlocking the bathroom door, Soul stepped out of the steamy bathroom and out into the chilly air of the apartment. A red towel hung on his shoulders and his black cargo pants hung low on his hips as he had his shirt draped on his arm. His thin, white hair was in its normal style, still damp from the shower, his head hung low.

Making the trek to his room, he glanced over to Maka's bedroom door, which was now left ajar.

Looking around the den, he spotted the girl pouring a cup of coffee from the brew she made earlier. Her back was to him while she stirred the contents into the cup.

"Heading to the grocery store; you can come if you want," he sighed out.

Scratching his head, Soul continued to his room where he put on his shirt, grabbed his wallet and keys and slipped on his sneakers.

He entered the bathroom to pick up his used clothes and dropped them in the maroon basket that sat in his room.

Adding to his signature look, he picked the yellow and black jacket from his dresser and shrugged it onto his shoulders, getting a flashback of when he got this at his first year of being in the DWMA.

Going back on that now, he realized how young he was…

He was seventeen now, almost the age of being an adult, and he had been at the school for three years now; he had gotten a whack-ass group of friends that loved him and he'd moved on from his past. Soul could even recall when he had confronted Maka and asked to be her weapon in training.

The nostalgia of it all brought him to the present with a long shudder.

Leaving his thick headband on his dresser, he walked over to his own desk and looked at the sheet music he had written in the past few weeks; paper spread in a messy, disorderly fashion on his desk and a small, silver frame held a picture of him and his brother. Wes and Soul were sitting, side-by-side in a grayscale picture- a photo-shopped image of him and his sibling as infants. Both had smiles on their faces while their eyes looked to the camera lens.

Parting his lips, he stared, lost in thought as he wondered where Wes was now…

"Soul?"

Maka stood in the doorway, looking him over with her head cocked to the side. But when she gotten his attention, she straightened her neck and said, "I'm not going; I've got a migraine coming on, but I'd like you to get a few things for me."

She cleared her throat and shuffled her feet as she mumbled, "I uh… I'm making chili so I need you to get the seasonings, the beef, beans, pads, and fritos…"

Turning around to face Maka completely, he asked, "what were the last two things again? I don't think I heard you right…."

His eye began twitch as he confirmed what he thought he heard.

"I said I needed seasonings, beef, beans, pads and fritos," she mumbled out quickly, her face turning a scarlet, bringing her hand to her forehead and dragging it down her face.

Before he could respond, she set a five dollar bill onto the table and hurried out of the door, hollering out a "thanks".

Heat flushed to Soul's cheeks as he grit his teeth and copied Maka's same action- holding his elbow as he let a hand drag down his face in embarrassment.

Not even moments ago he was thinking about how young they were and how hormones didn't affect their childhood lives; but Maka broke that thought with the need of someone to buy her feminine products at the store.

Huffing out a long breath, Soul eyed the money on the table before he grudgingly shoved it into his wallet, his face red like a cherry.

_I can't blame her though… migraines suck and not only that, she's dealing with monthly crap now; if I don't do this for her, she'll Maka-chop the shit out of me… But hey… at least I'm not buying tampons, right?_

Pinching the bridge of his nose as to prevent a nosebleed, he pushed the thought from his head and exited the apartment.

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I needed to add some form of humor; soon its gonna get a little darker…

Reviews are amazing; they are much obliged and I accept any and all opinions. Hate the story? Tell me why! But if it's because you just don't like the two in general, I don't need your sass. Go tell it to someone else because I can't fix that.

Disclaimer.

Any and all characters belong to the creators of Soul Eater. No credit goes to me except the plot!

Yes, you were already hinted one of the main conflicts; can you figure out what it is?

Thanks to all the fans out there who like my stories; it means so much to me that you read my work and enjoy it. It's all dedicated to you guys.

-InvaderMads


	7. Study Time

MAKA'S POV

After a few minutes of building up mental strength, Maka grit her teeth and cursed herself for allowing her weapon to realize how weak she was in the head.

Even she, herself, continuously reminds herself that a sound soul dwells within a sound mind and a sound body; her mind that gives her the idea to self-harm her body already breaks two of those rules. How can she be suitable to be a scythe Meister if she can't even keep her mind in the right place?

_By growing up and dealing with shit, that's how…_

Pushing herself off her mattress, she tensed her shoulders and locked her jaw before her stern face melted away and shown a nonchalant and emotionless expression.

Remembering that there was still a full pot of coffee sitting in the kitchen, Maka began to rub her neck as she dragged her way to the brew. Entering the living room, she inhaled the scent of caffeine that masked the smell of the old pumpkin candles Soul had lit the previous night.

Her ears could not pick up that familiar beat of the rain, falling ever so softly, and then heavily onto the apartment; she almost missed the drone of it all- it made her think more intimately than when the sun was out, huffing in the sky.

Flinching at the immediate sound of a door creaking open, Maka spun herself around and let her eyes rest on a half-naked soul—a crimson towel draped on his shoulders and exposed the large scar that extended from his right shoulder, down to his hip. His pants hung low on his torso and his face held his normal expression, that of nonchalant sorrow.

Turning back to her spot, facing the mug, she fended off her blushing as she desperately tried to make do of what she had in order to make it seem like she was busy. Failing miserably, she let her hair drape her cheekbones and she cuffed the edge of the counter, leaning against the granite surface and staring into the black substance.

The sound of feet padding away made her slightly more comfortable, but she then got a sickening twist on her face, grumbling angrily as she stepped into the warm steam of the bathroom.

After fixing the monthly red petal on her panties, she washed her hands and murmured to herself, "dammit… I'm almost out of pads…"

"Heading to the grocery store; you can come if you want," a husky voice hollered.

_Perfect timing- too bad though; he's just gonna have to deal with completing my little errand- my pelvis is beginning to cramp and a headache is coming on._

"Soul?"

Lightly tapping on Soul's door with her knuckle, Maka peeked into his room with an air of curiosity before completely blocking the exit of the room. Her long shadow cast into the room, for no lights had been turned on and the only light source came from his small table lamp and the open blinds from his window.

Holding the dollar bill she had previously fetched from her own wallet, she shifted awkwardly on her heels before she murmured his name yet again, "Soul?"

She gazed into the back of his signature jacket, the one with the academy's logo printed on the back. His cargo pants matched with the black base of the coat and his yellow patterned sneakers fit snug on his feet; it reminded Maka of the times when she and her weapon were busily fighting ninety-nine human souls and the single witch soul that Lord Death had assigned them…

Nostalgia flooded her thoughts, but she pushed these away, continuing to shift on her feet as Soul responded by turning his ear towards Maka.

She then began to stumble on her words about making dinner for the night- she needed the recipe for chili, and she added pads into the list, making the short moment as awkward as possible for the boy.

Repeating the list to the white-haired kid, she slapped the money onto the nearest desk and ran off, not accepting "no" as an answer. Skipping out of the room, she added a special "thanks" and hurried off to the kitchen to return to her coffee.

* * *

**9:36 AM**

After Soul had rushed out of the apartment with a tissue stuffed up his nose before a small grunt and a "hey- what gives," came from Maka's partner. A low growl sounded outside the wooden door before it clicked shut and a few angry, muffled noises brought Maka's curiosity up, but the sound had stopped abruptly, leaving the room in silence.

Narrowing her sparkling green eyes at the entrance, she decided to shrug off her growing temptation to check the door after a few moments of staring at the wooden framework.

Picking out a few things to pass the endless time she had, she headed back to her room and opened up her dresser drawers, needing a new shirt to switch into for the current one she was wearing had been soaked in blood around the seams on her hips. Picking out a forest-green tank top to match her eyes, she slipped off her stained navy one and exchanged it with her new, desired one.

Checking her lower hips, she picked out some crimson on her jeans, but decided to just pull the bottom of the tank over the stains. Picking up a couple of rubber bands from the top of the dresser, she pulled her hair into her normal pigtails, sighing as she ignored the pressure that built up behind her eyes and tugged at her skull- the starting of a migraine.

Retrieving her coffee from the kitchen she swallowed the last of it, and poured the last cup into her black and white speckled mug. Taking herself back to her own bedroom, she set the mug onto a coaster on the corner of her desk, pressing the play button on her stereo which had a classical CD ready to play for her.

The low key's of piano began to play as Maka took a seat at her desk, fingering the wooden particle board and tracing the rims of the colorful textbooks that sat in the far left corner.

Flipping on the desk lamp in the opposite corner, she dragged it closer to her position, picked up a mechanical pencil and opened one of the heavier books that lay, waiting for her to read.

Picking out her notebooks from beneath her desk, she got to work, scribbling down notes and summaries that spoke of monsters and fighting techniques that her professor had assigned to her class.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**I might make the next two chapters in Soul's view, I don't know… but I really hope you liked this one. Sorry about the delay for this chapter; I'm EXTREMELY busy… I hope my schoolwork and whatnot doesn't keep me from updating.**

**Depending on time issues, I might update every weekend. But, there's always that chance I could surprise you with a chapter during the week days; I dunno.**

**What the hell happened when Soul left the apartment?! Hmm… you'll just have to wait and see.**

**Why, you might ask, I add Maka's monthly issue into the story? It may seem useless, but I add it in to show that she isn't a kid anymore; the relationship between Maka and Soul is getting more and more responsible and grown-up. Their sixteen and seventeen in this story, so might as well add some realism to it, right?**

**I'm droning… Damn it.**

**Well, there you go. Thanks for the reviews; I appreciate them! Please, please, give me opinions! I love them!**

**Disclaimer: Soul Eater and the characters mentioned in this story rightfully belong to their creators. None of it goes to me, and all of the songs belong to their artists. Only the plot of the story is mine.**


	8. Confrontations

SOUL'S POV

"Hey! What gives," Soul shouted as he tackled the red-haired visitor to the ground after kicking the door closed behind him.

The man waved his arms, pushing away from the attacker who effortlessly pushed the man down and pinned his arms down while a single hand covered his mouth. His legs flailed uselessly and his efforts to escape were little to negative as Soul's surprisingly heavy body kept the grown man to the carpeted floor.

Struggling to hold the Death Scythe down, he muffled the man's protests with his sweaty palms. Glaring at the man with hatred in his crimson eyes, Soul growled out angrily, "what are you here for? I won't let Maka put up with any of your bullshit today, so you're going to have to go through me to get past that door…"

Spirit's nose wrinkled and he jerked his head side-to-side in order for a moment to speak. Failing, Soul continued in a low, defensive tone, "I'm not going to accept apologies, Mr. Albarn; but I have full right to accuse you of physical abuse- touch Maka again, I'll see it that you face court and listen to what they have to say about you. Hurting your daughter because you were drunk, and trying to be macho in front of a few hookers is not and never will be enough of an excuse. Spirit, she came to me when she needed someone- if she wanted to confront you, she would've done it already. She isn't ready for you, and until she is, I suggest you leave and hope that after all this is fixed, that she'll find a good-enough reason to forgive you."

Gritting his teeth, he got off Maka's father and offered a hand to him.

Spirit took it without so much as a grunt, and after a few seconds had passed, the father was on his feet with a dejected face and shining tears rimmed his eyes.

"Maka isn't in the greatest condition; don't expect her to run back to you so easily," Soul murmured as he thought back to the cuts on her pelvis and stomach- the old, white scars that matched his on his very own thighs.

Looking the man up and down, Soul asked in a whisper, "did it make you feel better, hurting your own daughter? Do you feel like a man when you bring in, woman after woman; how can you live with yourself, abusing your own perfect child as if it was nothing to you? Don't you realize she loved you, Spirit? From all the stories she's shared, I would've taken you as a more lovable parent that whatever the hell you are now…"

Soul glared at the man who was now facing the opposite way, his posture slumped in a pitiful fashion. His coat was askew and his dull, red hair shadowed his soft facial features.

"Soul Eater… I couldn't have asked for a better weapon to protect my baby…"

Gaping in surprise, Soul watched as the man exited the corridor in silence.

_Maka has one weird creep of a dad, that's for sure… and that was thoughtful of him to give the compliment, but the prick needs to learn to stop acting on impulse and think of how his actions could affect his family and loved ones… _

Pulling his hands out of his coat pockets, he looked at his tan palms while he wrinkled his forehead in confusion.

_He was fully capable of fighting for himself; so why did he just give in and listen to me? I'm not that strong…_

Realizing he had threatened Maka's father, he felt a pinprick of guilt in his stomach. Did he do the right thing? Should he have threatened Spirit like that?

_He was going to confront Maka and if it didn't have a good outcome, Maka could've gotten hurt while I wasn't there to protect her. I- I'm pretty sure I did the right thing…_

Frowning, he looked back to their apartment door with worry written on his face before he turned around and followed Spirit out to the parking lot.

What could've happened between father and daughter after such an event? Would Maka forgive him or fight with her father? Would she speak at all? Would she kick him out? Would Spirit hit her if she refused to accept the apology? Would chaos happen at all, or would they sit in mutual silence, searching for words to say between the two?

_Well, it's none of my business, that's for sure…_

After he made his way to his newly bought, 2002 emerald green jeep, Soul crawled into the leathery seats before sitting in the overwhelming silence that brought chills amongst his spine.

The dark clouds above cast darkness into the car and the boy fell into deep thought. Mesmerized by the little rain droplets on the clear windshield, he began to count them, thinking about his Meister.

_Why did she come to me rather than Tsubaki or Chrona? What difference am I to her than any of her other friends? I may be her weapon, but what was it that made her trust me more than the others? How could she? After the confrontation with Blair, and after I made the act of leaving her as a distraction for the woman, how could Maka possibly trust me as a friend? What is it about me that's different?! _

Biting his tongue, he contemplated on this thought before he stuck his key into the engine, started up the car and pulled away from the curb, starting his way to the store.

* * *

Wheeling the squeaky cart through the isles, Soul came across his last item on the list.

Pursing his lips, Soul eyed the shelves warily as he looked for the pads that Maka had asked for.

_Tampons, liners, condoms-SINCE WHEN WERE CONDOMS IN THIS ISLE?! Why are there brands for these things? Keep it cool, Soul… Stay cool, man… Freaking out over shit like this won't help…_

"Need help looking for anything, sir? If you're looking for Magnums, I'm sorry to say we're out," a voice sounded from behind Soul.

Responding a little too loudly, Soul stuttered, "n-no…I-I'm fine! Just er-erm… s-shopping for a friend…"

"Hmm… lucky friend," the grocery clerk winked at Soul in a flirty way before walking off, swaying his hips.

Frowning, disgusted that he was just hit on by a homosexual, grown man, he hurried farther down the isle and picked the nearest package of pads before wheeling his cart to the cashiers with magenta tinting his embarrassed face.

_What the hell just happened to me…?_

* * *

Driving back with the groceries, Soul had to focus on the road more carefully as a heavy downpour fell onto the scrap metal, The wipers worked at their fastest and when Soul had pulled back into his parking space, he got out of the car and brought the groceries with him, evacuating from the bitter, icy rain that brought needles down onto his neck and exposed face.

By the time that he had gotten under the shelter of the roof, he had been almost completely drenched from the rainwater. The sidewalks were beginning to flood with the nearly freezing currents that pulled at pedestrians who dared walk the streets while traffic crowded the roads and intersections.

_Will this rain ever END, _Soul thought as he made his way to his home.

Opening the door with his free hand, Soul sighed as the warmth from the room spread across his face.

Pulling off his shoes at the entrance, he closed the door with his rear before setting the plastic grocery bags onto the granite counter top.

Groaning from the short, but dramatic errand, he unbuttoned his jacket and tore off his shirt as he continued to his room, switching out his cold, sopping clothes into dry, warm ones.

Switching out his pants, he pulled on some red, black and white plaid pajama pants before adding a maroon hoodie. Relieved he was home and comfortable, he took the towel that he used to dry himself off with the night before and did it again, rubbing out the water from the hair that was plastered to his head.

After tossing the towel back onto his bed, he searched the house for Maka, finding her in her room, taking notes from an unbelievably huge textbook.

Going back to the kitchen counter, he unloaded the grocery bags, setting the meat in the fridge, leaving the spices on the countertop and delivered the pads to the bathroom.

After all that had been said and done, Soul took out a bowl from the wooden cabinet and thought,

_I hope this sets her in a better mood; it's not every day I bring in surprises like this for her…_

Getting out the ice cream scooper from the drawer underneath the counter, he scooped out two round spheres of ice cream into the glass dish before adding a spoon.

Putting the tub into the freezer and setting the scooper into the chrome sink, he took the bowl and knocked on Maka's door. Receiving a quiet, "yeah," Soul entered the room, eyeing Maka as she scribbled words onto a sheet of paper. She had gone through four pages it seemed, for her desk was covered in her notes. Her lamp sat a few inches from her workspace, and her attention was focused on the tome before her.

"I come bearing gifts," Soul said in a goofy voice as he offered the bowl to Maka with a warm smile on his lips.

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I had fun with this chapter. ;D

I hope you guys liked it! Give me opinions! GIMME!

No flaming either. I haven't seen any, but please, no. We as fans don't need to see that.

Thanks.

I'm trying to keep them in character as much as humanly possible... but if I end up making them OC, I'm sorry...

Disclaimer:

Soul Eater and any of the songs mentioned in this fic belong to their rightful owners. None of it belongs to me except for the plot!


	9. Reasoning with Love

SOUL'S POV

Leaving my arm outstretched for Maka to eye the contents in the bowl, she narrowed her eyes at Soul as if she we're confused, but she took the ice cream with a small smile drawn on her face. Her eyes were lit up by the fact that Soul had surprised her with the sugary present, but she avoided Soul's gaze as if she was upset.

_Well, it's not such a big deal if she looks at me anyway… it's not like I care, or should, at that matter… on with the point-_

"You better enjoy the fact that I drove to the store; I went through mental trauma to get your girl-stuff…," Soul scoffed at this before letting his eyes wander over Maka, who did not seem to reply to the statement. She simply licked the spoon clean before digging into the small, vanilla scoops.

Recognizing the low notes of a piano, Soul whipped his head to around to see a stereo beside Maka's nightstand, surrounded by disk boxes and CD's strewn about the carpeted floor.

Standing there awkwardly, Soul rubbed his knuckles, fixing up a topic to discuss until the girl blurted out, "I'm sorry… for barging in on the weekend like this. I'm sorry to have bothered you with my inconvenient troubles- you seem to have enough as it is without me. I'll be leaving tonight so you-."

Maka was cut off abruptly when Soul lifted up a hand, turning his head to the side in ignorance.

"I don't care if you have difficulties, and I sure as hell don't wanna hear you rambling on about how your sorry; I'll welcome you and be there whenever you need… but answer me this…"

The boy shifted his weight onto his other foot, lowering his hand and stuffing both into his hoodie's pockets. Knitting his eyebrows together, his tongue sliding across the back of his teeth, he grumbled out, "why'd you come to me first?"

* * *

MAKA'S POV

Staring into the creamy yellow swirls of melted ice cream in her bowl, she kept her eyes to herself. Her incessant thoughts in her head were disgusting as she pictured Soul, her knight on that white horse that had come to save her in her nightmares. She had wanted so bad for someone to figure out what was going on in her childhood; she dreamed many times, what it would be like for someone to witness the abuse her father had done to her.

But now… her knight on the white stallion… her prince was that of a normal boy, and she was beginning to picture something off-limits.

She had seen Soul with his shirt off, she had been effected with hormones since she was the measly age of twelve. She had begun to feel a spark every now and then when she looked Soul in the eye; those red, intriguing eyes-

"But answer me this…," he whispered. Maka could see his bare toes scrunch and release and she could tell by the way he fixed his posture that he was uncomfortable. The piano music and the pounding rain was all that sounded until he spoke in a throaty voice,

"Why'd you come to me first?"

The ice cream began to taste bland, then. Her lips grew numb and her breathing had stopped at the question, she too, was afraid to answer.

The lights in the apartment flickered and the heat had turned on—a low hum followed by a rumble of thunder that rolled outside the thin window pane.

Setting the bowl onto the desk, careful as to not make a noise, for if she did, a bomb would detonate and life as she knew it would fall apart as useless words would fall, unorganized and scattered. A snowball rolling down a hill and growing bigger until it hit and little puffs of white powder flew in all directions- a mess.

Why _did_ she come here first? What was it about Soul that was so magnetizing and so relaxing? What was it that brought her feet to his doorstep instead of Tsubaki's?

Well, for one, she was off doing hell knows what with Black Star, who was always seeming to find new ways into trouble. But even then, Crona was at the DWMA, alone and probably afraid of his own weapon that was probably picking on him this very second. She could've gone to him instead.

But she decided to take Soul instead; and why?

Because she had feelings for him.

And would she ever really tell him this?

No, because it'd ruin the perfectly fine relationship she had with him now; Soul would probably think of her as a sister rather than perceive her as an actual _girl_. Unlike all the other great dates out there for the boy, Maka was just an average person amongst so many. She, herself, had never even experienced what it is to have a boyfriend and she was already sixteen!

_Pathetic!_

Shoving out the thought of Soul, shirtless, but saving her from her father, Maka began to chew the inside of her cheek, wheeling around in her chair to face her weapon.

Maka could feel Soul's stare burn into her neck; she couldn't leave him standing there waiting for an answer forever.

But how could she answer with a lie to her very own weapon?

How could she let out her most precious secret and have one of her best friends never treat her the same? Could she figure a way to tell him without being so straightforward about it?

Would Soul even accept her the way that she's always dreamt of?

Would he even care in the end?

"You don't have to tell if you don't want to, Maka… I won't force you if you don't want-,"

Lifting her chin up, she rubbed her eyes, realizing that she had let a few tears stream down her face.

She couldn't have been doing it for long, since Soul had stopped in mid-sentence and had taken a step toward her direction, squatting down before her.

Screwing up her eyes to finally focus on Soul's she couldn't make out anything but a blurry mess of colors; more tears began to roll down her cheeks and she balled her hands into fists, angry that she had once again, let herself fall apart in front of Soul.

"May I," was all she could hear after she sucked in a breath of air, holding it in her lungs so as not to whimper.

Nodding her head and mashing her lips together so as not to let them tremble, she felt a warm hand slide across one side of her face, wiping away the salty wetness on her left cheek.

She could feel his hand begin to slide away, but she began to lean into the warmth of his palm, feeling a small shred of hope flower inside of her; she shuddered out a sigh as she felt Soul's hand fall away entirely.

_I'm so much stronger than this; so much STRONGER than this…!_

Gritting her teeth, she wiped the other half of her moist face, before she blurted out angrily.

"I came to you first because you mean more than anything to me."

"Soul,

"I came to YOU first because you were there for me when I was weak in our missions. You pulled me together and you… you sacrificed more for me than I could ever repay back. When you'd first gotten your scar, it was because of me. I swore to myself that I would never let that happen; and it was then that I knew. I knew I was feeling something for you. I pushed it way- simple weapon/Meister connection y'know… but it's never left. I figured it might just go away. It might just be a moment of insecurity- but I feel something for you Soul! I don't want to end up like my mother, alone after having loved her own weapon; getting hurt in the end by a man who couldn't be faithful… I don't want to lose you. I'm so afraid that-."

Maka's lips had been interrupted with a finger laid on her mouth and a chuckle coming from Soul before her.

"But Soul, I-,"

"You sure do talk a lot," the boy murmured, smiling before he brushed his lips upon hers.

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE!

SAPPPYYYYYY! It's overtly sappy! I know! (definition of sappy: lovey-dovey shit that goes overboard)

I needed to add at least a small kiss in the story sooner or later! I didn't know exactly when, but I had to!

And I felt that Soul was smooth enough to do it to hush Maka's rant. :3

HEY! NO RACY LEMONEY CRAP FOR YOU GUYS! I hate it with a burning passion when that happens, because even though these guys are getting hormone changes, I'm not allowing that in ANY of my chapters. Sorry.

And no heated make-out sessions.

Just light-hearted fluff that SHOULD BE.

Disagree? Tell me why through a PM.

I want your opinions, but I'm just setting down a line for you guys. No sexy, lemony shit whatsoever!

Disclaimer: Soul Eater goes to the respected owners. I own nothing.

Oh, and I apologize for any grammatical errors you see; I'll be updating the chapters for that crap here pretty soon; and depending on how I feel on the weekend, I might revise this chapter for personal reasons.

Thanks guys!


	10. Lights Out

SOUL'S POV

The rain and all its glory, the lightning partnering up with the cloud's tears knocked against the walls of the apartment—music to the ears of few who respect the low drum of the thunder and the flash of light.

Soul had been standing there for what seemed like forever, realizing that his partner might not have the words to explain at the moment. Maybe he, himself, wasn't ready for an answer. Maybe he'd be better off to keep secrets unheard.

"You don't have to tell if you don't want to, Maka… I won't force you if you don't want-,"

The girl lifted her chin to him, a mess of tears on her face while her bangs clung to her dampened, pink cheeks. Her clouded eyes searched for his face, desperately trying to blink away the tears that never relented.

_Soul, what the fuck have you done? Making girls cry, especially the one that means something to you is NOT cool; fix her- she needs someone, and you're the only one who can right now. Idiot._

Taking a step forward, Soul crouched down and looked up to Maka's broken expression—her lips pursed together as she let a hand come to her cheek to wipe her face, but before she could continue onto the opposite side, Soul murmured quietly, "may I," as he extended his hand.

She simply nodded her head in response and he cupped her face. Swiping his thumb across the side of her face, he began to pull away, angry at himself for allowing such an intimate part of him escape and show itself to Maka. He rarely to never touched people like this, not to mention a girl in this state of depression who needed him.

What struck him dumbfounded was a sickly gush of warmth that spread through him when Maka tried to lean into the palm of his hand. But he pulled away, studying her face with curiosity. She wasn't like this; she never showed this side of her— stripped of her defense and exposed to raw, bitter sadness.

Why was Maka reacting so oddly like this? Soul could understand that she could be uncomfortable if she didn't want to talk about it, but why the tears? Why would a question like this hit her in such a way that she accepted his presence, his openness to talk to?

Why did this affect _him _as well? Why did he get that bizarre, pleasurable warmth that seeped through his stomach when he stroked her face? Why did he fret, too, over Maka's bout of sorrow and why did he feel the sudden urge to do whatever it took to soothe her troubles?

"_You are calm and composed. You are able to see through things clearly at this age. You are outstanding. And... Always being able to make the correct judgments, not falling into darkness. Outstanding. "That won't do", "This is wrong". You reject any number of paths... Choosing your path with cynicism. What do you want to do? How are you going to do it? What is your motive?"_

The little demon's words echoed into his thoughts, swirling images of chance into his head before his mind was interrupted with a steady voice.

"I came to you first because you mean more than anything to me."

Flicking his attention to her dark hazel eyes, Soul picked out the lonely feeling of judgment and criticism in her gaze.

"Soul,

She really did have amazing eyes once you took the time to study them…

"I came to YOU first because you were there for me when I was weak in our missions. You pulled me together and you… you sacrificed more for me than I could ever repay back. When you'd first gotten your scar, it was because of me. I swore to myself that I would never let that happen; and it was then that I knew. I knew I was feeling something for you. I pushed it way- simple weapon/Meister connection y'know… but it's never left…"

Straining his expression so he wouldn't seem so surprised, Soul looked through his white bangs, feeling almost embarrassed that his Meister had kept a secret for this long and he had never known.

Maka had felt something for him, and he was oblivious to her feelings this whole time…

_Three years; I've been waiting for her to make a move for three years and for this whole time, I wasn't man enough to do it myself. I'm such a hypocrite._

"I figured it might just go away. It might just be a moment of insecurity- but I feel something for you Soul! I don't want to end up like my mother, alone after having loved her own weapon; getting hurt in the end by a man who couldn't be faithful… I don't want to lose you. I'm so afraid that-."

Immediately, Soul brought a finger to her lips, hushing her rant so he could think for even the slightest second, but his emotions were filling him and oozing that disgusting, warm feeling into his stomach again. He began to chuckle at Maka who moved her lips against his forefinger, objecting at his suddenness.

"But Soul, I," Soul cut the girl off once again, tired of listening to Maka's continuous talking to cover up her feelings which she just expressed.

"You sure do talk a lot…," Soul said under his breath, surprising the girl with a soft kiss to end her endless protests.

Her lips felt warm as her mouth molded into his, and as he was growing more lightheaded, he strained himself to keep himself out of the foggy daze. Soul meandered on his conscience while he tasted Maka's tears and wished her pain away.

_Maybe this is right for us… No matter how many flaws, vices and wrong choices we've made, maybe we can both pull each other out of the messes we've made. After Maka grows more stable in her condition, maybe she will find it in her to forgive her father (not that he deserves it…). Perhaps… even though it's cliché that she's my Meister, I've felt something for her all along, but I've always pushed it away…afraid of hurting her in the end…_

_I really hope this was a good choice… damn, Soul._

Ending the kiss, he pulled the girl into a protective embrace and rubbed her back gently as she shivered uncontrollably.

Planting another small kiss on her jawbone, he pulled back to examine Maka who was humming with a broken, jagged voice as if to withdraw from the sudden outbreak of feelings she just expressed to Soul.

"I'm…," she started, but shrugged it off letting her bangs curtain her eyes as she looked to the carpet.

Searching her empty expression, he furrowed his eyebrows before his hand became enclosed by Maka's cold, thin fingers. She toyed with his knuckles for a bit before she set it in her lap and sighed out a weak breath, "I've waited a long time… for that to happen. Thank you for making my wish come true, and, I'm sorry for the trouble I've caused you…." She hesitated a moment and added, "As I said, I'll be heading back home soon to discuss things with my dad. The probability that I'll come back is pretty steep, so would you mind if I stayed here full time as well? I'll pay half for the rent, I'll cook every night, and I hope you won't mind…"

Her green irises glistened as a streak of lightning swept pass the glass and a roar of thunder shook the room. Before Soul could determine what was going to happen, the heater turned off and all the lights flickered off, taking away the relaxing piano notes that played in the stereo.

Ignoring this for the moment, Soul exhaled, satisfied that Maka accepted the intimate gesture and had accepted the fact that she was going to have to face her demons sooner rather than later. She was already building up her securities and Soul had to admit, he missed that part of his Meister.

Pulling his mouth into a half-smile, he said coolly, "you're always welcome here…," Soul looked past Maka to the thundering clouds and added quietly, "I'll be lighting a shit-ton of candles; would you like to join…?"

He pulled himself up from his position and offered his other hand, gazing at the girl through his silvery-white hair, a wider smile fit on his lips.

Without hesitation, Maka took his hand and was pulled steadily to her feet, coming almost nose-to-nose with the weapon, for she was a tad bit shorter than Soul.

Taking his chances, Soul gingerly brushed his lips against her forehead before leading the two into the living room.

* * *

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE**_

_**Sappy, and yes, I know I practically redid the chapter, but this time, I added more. **_

_**I hope you don't hate me that I'm repetitive in my chapters. I'm seeming to find thesauruses my best friend now adays. I'm trying my best not use words over and over and over and over again, so please, bear with me. **_

_**Yes… the quote from the Little Demon IS a true quote. Look it up for yourself if you don't believe me.**_

_**Reviews! I'm love 'em! I love 'em good! **_

_**Disclaimer: Soul Eater and any characters belong to the respected owners. Nothing belongs to me. **_

_**Thanks guys!**_


	11. Not for the Faint of Heart

MAKA'S POV

The harsh overcast had begun to cease it's raining, and left the house in a quiet stillness. Numerous candles had lit up the rooms of the home, casting warm glows and shadows in their midst.

There were only a few candles left to light, so Maka took the smaller of the two after lighting a match and distributing the flame to the wick. Glancing over behind her, Soul had done the same, but was grasping onto a wider, orange colored candle that was halfway used with melted wax crawling down the side. He set this on the coffee table still holding the burning match in his hand.

Maka looked back to her own cylinder of wax which too, had begun to drip wax down it's sides. The flame had danced as she exhaled and it moved shadows farther and closer in her portion of the dark room.

Looking to the kitchen, she spotted the small cooler in which the beef was contained. It was smart of Soul to put the food in a cooler- she had forgotten that the fridge stopped working in an electricity outage.

Curious of the time, for the clouds did not put much light into the rooms, she glanced back to the hallway witch lead to her room.

Taking a trip back to her bedroom, she found her cell phone in her backpack that leaned against her desk.

Flipping it open, she read:

5:34 PM; Saturday

(1)New Message

(5) Missed Calls

Setting the candle on a coaster to catch any wax, she narrowed her eyes at her phone and opened up her history and noticed that her father had been trying to get a hold of her.

Locking her jaw and wrinkling her nose, Maka went to her bed and sat on it's edge, groaning at her father's inconvenience.

Scrolling through her messages, there too, was a full paragraph of an apology sent from Sprit with sad-face emoticons dotted here and there in the text. The spammed message had "I'm sorry" six times and "daddy didn't mean to hurt you" about four times.

Biting her lip and wrinkling her forehead, Maka began to pop the keyboard out and text him back, but hesitated.

_Why should I believe him? How many times have I gone through this very issue and had forgiven him for bringing hooker after hooker home? How many times will he continue to do it after I've forgiven him this time? Will he keep his word this time or continue to be the liar that he's been to me and my own mother?_

_But then again, he's my FATHER. I can't just shun him out of my life completely. Not to mention, he's Lord Death's death scythe… I'll meet up with him again and it'll be awkward (but then again, Spirit is ALWAYS awkward). _

_And even though the past is the past, I should be so lucky that Spirit even acknowledges me; some parents don't even care for their children and often leave them in worse condition that I've been through. He apologizes and tries to look out for me when he's sober… I just wish he'd never gotten addicted to alcohol—then we'd never been in this mess in the first place._

Flipping the phone shut, the brightness from the electronic died and left Maka in a temporarily blinded state; adjusting her eyes to the swelling darkness, she frowned and left in the silence before she Soul's knuckles tapped on the wooden doorframe to her room.

Pushing herself off the comforter without hesitation, she regretted this immediately—the roar of blood pulsed in her ears, clouding her eyes and gravity seemed to have added another three hundred pounds onto her petite body.

Before she could understand what was happening, she lost consciousness and the loud drum in her ears halted to a deafening silence.

* * *

SOUL'S POV

"Shit—,"

Soul strode forward just in the nick of time, catching her torso and easing her to the ground. He hadn't even been in the room for more than a few seconds and already she was fainting; what is WITH Maka today?

Kneeling beside her on the ground, he scrutinized her face and after a few moments had come and gone, she began to stir.

Blinking her green eyes open, she groaned as she lifted her head before laying it back onto the carpet, wrinkling her nose and forehead in protest; after another few moments had come and gone, Soul murmured, "I guess it's been a long day for the both of us. What was it this time? Are the candles too overwhelming or something? Am I too much?"

With that last question, he chided in a playful tone and got up, offering his hand to her which she took thankfully. After she was on her feet and steadied, she rolled her eyes at her companion.

"You're beginning to sound like Black*Star," Maka scoffed at him, but her smile was wiped off her face when she spotted her phone. It sat there, lying on the floor just a few feet away from where she had just been.

Eying Maka with a spark of confusion in his eyes, Soul raised an eyebrow before shrugging, trying not to delve into her personal business. His curiosity never ceased, however, but Maka had begun to speak.

"Tonight, around six forty-five PM, would you please drive me back home… I'm going to pack my things and discuss a few things with Spirit; hopefully he won't be out at Chupa Cabra's or be at home with company… I would really appreciate it if you could…"

Soul nodded his head in agreement, "that's cool by me; do you need me to come in with you or…,"

Maka just shrugged and turned around to pick up her phone, "it's really up to you…the probability that he'll be drunk is pretty high though. I wouldn't be surprised in the least."

Her voice was bitter as she slid past him, a candle in her hands and a frown pulling at the corners of her mouth.

_Maka's acting awfully strange; I'm glad she's ready to face her dad, but she isn't herself—of course, the self-abuse isn't like her either, or her continuous weeping, but hey… everybody's got some trouble sometime in their lives…_

Soul thought back to his past: a childhood memory when he was flying a kite with his brother that molded into another memory of slicing his thighs behind the locked door of his bedroom when he was older.

Shuddering, his mind crowded with more and more past events until finally he realized that he was staring at the wooden doorframe like an idiot. How long had he been standing there, he didn't know.

Looking back to the girl through the opening, he stuffed his hands in his hoodie's pockets and huffed out a long sigh.

_I wish she knew how much she really had… everything laid out right in front of her. If only I had that benefit so long ago…_

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE

This chapter was a little sketchy for me; I didn't want to add a shitload more sappy chapters in the book, so I added something in with her father to tie it with the resolution with the story. It's coming guys; patience.

I'm sorry if my writing is a little dull here; I got a lot of work and more ahead for these next few weeks.

I'll TRY to update frequently, but the chances are low. I apologize for the wait.

Maka fainted; that's pretty much the bulk of this chapter. (confused as to why? [Stress from her father and she had gotten up too fast.])

Disclaimer: any characters I've mentioned in this story belong to their respected owners. Only the plot is mine. Any songs mentioned belong to their artists/ bands; nothing belongs to me.

Thanks guys.


	12. Not Enough

MAKA'S POV

An hour had come to pass and it had finally lain off the rain and the cloud-cover opened up to a pastel sunset. Hues of pink and grey smudged across the sky, throwing rays of sunlight into the apartment.

Maka and Soul sat side-by-side in the couch cushions, comfortable in eachothers' presence.

With her head cradled in Soul's lap, Maka began to stir from her nap, blinking the sleep out of her eyes while avoiding the sharp, unexpected sun that burst through the window panes.

With a frown, Maka pulled her head away from the boy's legs and pushed her torso straight, stretching her palms to the ceiling which accompanied a yawn and the popping of her spine and shoulder blades. Stealing a glance to her human pillow, she found that he, too, was asleep. Soul's silvery-white hair laid messily over his eyes as he lay back in the chair. The tips of his bangs swayed as he breathed and a light, almost soundless snore came from the sleeping teenager.

Rolling her eyes at her companion, she snuck a peek at the clock that sat beneath the television screen before her.

_6:32 PM _

Getting up from the warm comfort of the couch and Soul's lap, Maka strode toward her room to pick out her black boots and a bright, neon green jacket.

Recollecting her thoughts, she began to consider her words to her father and how she'd confront his drunken self at home. Would he even be home, or would he be out at the bar with who knows how many prostitutes surrounding him and his bottle? Could she even look him in the face or bear to smell that rancid breath that stank of a mix of sour whisky, vodka or alcohol? Would Maka bear to have Soul there to accompany her, and to witness the wasted remains of her father?

She concluded that she'd just have to wing it; her thoughts were empty, but filled with unanswered questions that her own conscience didn't even want to face.

Glaring at her body in the mirror, she picked out each and every flaw in herself, criticizing herself once more before she snapped her attention away from her reflection, took her phone and left the room.

By the looks of it, Soul had begun to stir and seconds later a low yawn sounded from the den.

"Good morning Sleeping Beauty," Maka chimed in a sarcastic voice; her legs took her from room to room to use the restroom, throw away the old, used tea-lights on the coffee table and blow out the wicks of the thicker, lighted candles, watching cold, grey wisps of smoke trail and curl into the light above.

* * *

(SOUL'S POV)

(7:04 PM)

The sun was just peeking over the horizon, letting it's last, weak rays of light stretch out into the sky, molding colors of grey blend to mix hues of dull pink and lavender. Patches of dark clouds spotted the sky above and in the distance were lit-up storms concealing lightning and fear.

Soul pulled parked his side along the curb to Maka's household, but no movement was made beside him. The silence they'd given each other during the ride to the house wasn't unbearable, but that was when the car was running and the radio was playing music and occasionally warning the drastic chances of more rain to surely come their way. Now, with the car off and wind sighing against the windows of Soul's car, the silence was empty, and emptiness was a terrifying thing to feel.

Looking towards Maka, he opened his mouth to speak, but his conscience got the better of him, leaving his tongue mute.

What could he possibly say to muster confidence into Maka? Did he have any advice to face her father? No. He fled home as soon as he could, just so he wouldn't have to face the reality his own family and friends had given to him so long ago. He was a coward, even more so than this girl sitting speechless in the seat beside him.

He couldn't help but feel envy towards her bravery. Her father was a drunken, fool of a father who had no reason whatsoever to hold custody over her. From what stories he's heard from Maka, he'd suspect that he's of less use to her than common day trash.

But then again, Spirit had somewhat complimented him in the hallway of the apartments.

_Fuck… I got nothing…_

So he sat there, quietly and respectively allowing Maka to think things through until she shifted in her seat and sighed out, "I'm ready…"

Both anxious teenagers left the vehicle parked before Maka pulled out her keys and held them in her shaky hand. Seeing this, Soul grasped her trembling hands, breathing out encouraging words and, "remember, I'm here with you for a reason; I'll stick by your side until you tell me otherwise. You know yourself better than anyone else, so tell him—yell and go complete bat-shit if it'll make your point come across."

Happy to see a smile creeping onto Maka's face, he rubbed his thumbs over her fingers before letting them go and giving her a light kiss on the forehead.

Before he could think of any more encouraging words, Maka had already opened the door and stepped inside. Following closely behind, he let his eyes scan over the premises.

A small corridor branched led toward what seemed to be the Albarn's living room. A red leather couch and a matching recliner surrounded a coffee table and an old, box television with antennas. Occupying the far side of the sofa was Spirit, who was holding a single beer bottle.

Spirit's attention flickered from the soap opera to the pair who walked into the room, and before Soul could grasp more of his surroundings, Spirit stood up and shuffled over toward Maka with a large smile plastered on his face. His black attire was, for the most part, shapely and well-kept.

"Baby! I'm so sorry! Daddy is so sorry he hurt you. I'm so glad you're back home sweetie, so glad you've come back to me. You're back- Daddy is so sorry…"

Spirit went on like this for another five minutes, embracing his daughter who, surprisingly, did not react. In fact, she seemed to take in the hug and returned it with a gentle squeeze.

"I'm fine, Spirit. Spirit, you can stop… I know…"

Taking a step back from the intense, father-daughter moment, Soul let his eyes wander across the room to get a better understanding of Maka's everyday living.

He could smell damp alcohol in the air and a few candles were lit upand set on the table.

_At least he's not drunk off his ass enough to forget that electricity hasn't been reliable these past few days. But then again… a drunken man with fire is NEVER a good idea…_

Off to his left was another corridor that broke off to more rooms—most likely restrooms, bedrooms that belonged to Spirit and Maka, and perhaps an office. But this was not his home, so he stayed put, silent and respectful to the sentimental man and his suspicious daughter who seemed way too calm.

Soul was uneasy about Maka's approach to her father now. Only a few nights ago had she come running to Soul for an escape from the anger she had at her father. Why, now, does she seem forgiving towards this unworthy, disgusting father of hers?

"Let go of me," Maka muttered. No move was made for her, so she repeated herself again.

"Let go of me, Spirit."

For a third time, she spat out these words coldly, slipping out of her father's grasp and giving him a disappointed look. Her frown and the increasing shine in her eyes said it all; she was completely tired of her father's useless comfort.

Catching another glimpse at Spirit, he saw the grown man staring at Soul with hollow eyes; Soul glared back with a hint of pity that creased in his forehead. Soul shuffled uncomfortably and crossed his arms, avoiding eyes that bore into his face.

"Father…," out of the corner of Souls eye, he could see Maka cringe at the word before she continued in a rough tone, "I didn't come back for you, exactly. I'm quite surprised you aren't with some prostitute carrying an STD…"

Soul could feel the tension completely flow out. Maka's anger was like a shockwave, paralyzing everything and anything, and Soul was left speechless and wide-eyed.

"But don't mind me. You never mind me when you bring woman after woman home, always accompanied with liquor and alcohol of some sort. Don't mind my opinions stated tonight because I didn't come here to criticize you, Spirit."

Maka sucked in some air and held her breath for a second before choking out, "I'm here to apologize! I'm here so I can say sorry. I'm sorry you don't have the capability and morals to lead yourself through stressful situations- I'm sorry you let your fear swallow you up and influence you to drink. Because after all… holding a marriage is too difficult to handle for a middle-aged man like you. I'm sorry that I haven't left your sorry ass after you hurt me all those years ago… I'm sorry," Maka circled Spirit until her back was to the other hallway.

"…that I never noticed the signs when you began to drink. You and Mom NEVER got along and every time you argued… every night… it always got worse. Every night you'd either be gone doing whatever the hell you'd be doing, or you'd be getting yourself wasted, or you'd be fighting with Mom! I'm sorry that our family wasn't enough for you! I'm sorry my love wasn't enough to suffice you're so-called 'problems'…"

Maka fled down the hallway, encouraging her father to follow along before she yelled out, "I'm glad you're getting along just fine without me and Mom to check up on you. To feed you every weeknight."

Soul hurried down after the others into a room painted with pink and white floral designs on the wall. A small, twin bed sat in the corner with a large vanity beside it. Maka was pulling out a large suitcase out from under her bed and she set it upon her magenta comforter.

She spoke in a calmer voice, but it was terribly shaky and off-key.

Spirit clung to his daughter again, and Maka fought to get him off of her, but to her avail, he was too strong. Taking this as Soul's cue, he pulled the grown man off and angrily muttered, "get your hands off of her."

It wasn't much of a struggle to keep Spirit off of Maka, but damn, did he smell horrid. Vodka, beer and sweat radiated from the father, and he could understand a little why she was so embarrassed to be his biological daughter.

Soul's forehead creased and a frown came upon his lips while he stood protectively beside the girl whose hands were shaking again. Flipping his attention to Maka, he could see tears threatening to fall from the corners of her beautiful green eyes.

"I'm truly glad that you're happy with the live you're running now; whether it involve me or not isn't your choice because I'm leaving. I'm done with you and your endless bullshit. I'm tired of you and your drunkenness and the women and the bruises and the yelling and the smell… I'm glad Mom left you when she had the chance… now it's my turn…"

Narrowing his eyes, Soul flashed his eyes from Spirit, who stood with his mouth, gaping open and his bottle crashing to the floor. Silence filled the room as Maka went from her closet and dresser to her luggage bag, filling it with all sorts of clothes, hygiene necessities, personal and valuable treasures and electronics hidden away in drawers and at the top of her closet.

Within this time, Spirit struggled against Soul who was desperately trying to keep the man away from Maka. A murderous shine built in the tears of the man's eyes, and he began to cry out Maka's name.

He was both seething and hurt, and Soul could see this, but this didn't loosen his grip or make him pity him any less.

After a few more sluggish minutes had passed, Maka had zipped up the bag and left the room, hollering out, "c'mon Soul, were leaving. For good…"

Pushing Spirits heavy body off of him, he watched as Spirit fell to his knees, crying out Maka's name and began to crawl out the room. Stupid as that was, being there was shards of glass that glinted off the floorboards, Soul blocked the doorway and crouched down in front of the man. Again, he got the whiff of alcohol and body odor, but he shook this off and whispered, "Spirit, don't forget the words I said; she won't come back unless she feels the need to. And until then, I suggest you clean yourself up and pull yourself together. This is your daughter and she's leaving you; GET THAT INTO YOUR HEAD and let it sink in. Mr. Albarn, I will keep a close eye on your daughter, but don't EVER try to get your hands on her; I'll see to it that papers will be signed and a restraining order will be used at Maka's advantage. Being a drunken father is one thing. An abusive, ignorant father is another… goodnight, Mr. Albarn."

Soul stood up, and hurried back to Maka, who was putting her belongings into the trunk of his car. The rain had started up again, and the sun was long gone, leaving the streets paved in a glow of streetlights that reflected off the wet pavement.

Closing the door behind him, Soul headed towards the car, and sat himself in the driver's seat, started the engine and looked at Maka, who, after seconds of closing the passenger door behind her, began to sob quietly, her tears an ache that only Soul could listen to.

* * *

(AUTHOR'S NOTE)

I'm sorry. I know you all hate me for updating SO LATE… but school is demanding that I get better grades, so I've been working my tail off for my parents and my school. I'm hoping this chapter wasn't too… long or not descriptive. I really tried my best, especially since it's been so long since I've even touched this story.

My apologies to any and all of you readers out there. I really hope you liked this chapter though. I think I'll add one last chapter… just to end it off with something on a better note, y'know? But I'm sort of at a writers block at how to end it. I need reviews and messages to give me a few ideas.

I love all of your support! It means the world to me. And sorry if you pick out any grammatical errors in the story; I'm trying to fix that as I go.

Copyright: Soul Eater belongs entirely to its creators. Not to me. ANY characters belong to them.

Subscribe, Review… do anything to give me feedback on the story; once again, THANK YOU.


End file.
